


Santana Needs A Lesbro!

by foxfire60441



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:24:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxfire60441/pseuds/foxfire60441
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brittany interviews candidates for her girlfriend as a lesbro.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Santana Needs A Lesbro!

**Author's Note:**

> Brittany interviews candidates for her girlfriend as a lesbro. Possible ongoing series: "Santana Needs a Lesbro" "Santana Needs a BFF" "Santana Needs a Girlfriend" etc. Will continue if the need is there.

Santana Needs A Lesbro!

"B, what are we doing here?" Santana asked in confusion as Brittany guided her girlfriend to a chair in the deserted choir room. 

"You'll see," the blonde replied cryptically, brandishing a clipboard and sparkly pen with a rainbow atop it. Santana smiled endearingly at the sight, although still puzzled why her other half had dragged her to the empty room after the final bell rang. Her mind raced, coming to a pleasant possible conclusion: quickie on the piano. Santana smirked giddily at the idea; it had been at least a week since the pair had secretly defiled the furniture in this particular room of the school.

Not even looking up, Brittany scribbled something on the paper attached to her clipboard. "It's not sexy times, S."

The Latina was startled for a moment - how did Brittany even do that, knowing what she was thinking without words being said? Santana inwardly rolled her eyes at herself. Duh, they'd easily been able to silently communicate with one another since the first grade, so it should be even easier for them to do so now that they were officially dating. "So what are we doing here, Britts?"

Brittany nodded in satisfaction to herself and took the seat next to the darker-haired girl, dumping the clipboard into her own lap. "Now that you've left Narnia and everyone knows you're a unicorn, there's some things we need to take care of."

"Ok...like?" Santana queried, drawing the word out. 

Threading long fingers through shorter tanned digits, Brittany squeezed her girlfriend's palm. "You need a lesbro," she stated in a no-nonsense tone.

Sputtering slightly, Santana stared at her wordlessly. Eager to explain herself, the blonde rushed forward with an explanation. "Ever since you," she paused, biting her lip, both of them still sensitive after the Latina had recently been forced out of the closet. "After what happened," Brittany amended, "I've been doing a lot of research about gay ladies. And I keep seeing how a lot of them have lesbros, which is a guy friend they're 'bros' with."

"Babe, I know what a lesbro is," Santana assured her. "I just don't think I need one." Secretly, her heart melted at her girlfriend's thoughts. She's in love, ok?

Brittany smiled widely. "But you do, honey! It would be good for you. That's why I posted flyers around school asking certain people to meet us here."

"B," Santana started, but they were interrupted by a hesitant knock at the choir room door as it creaked open. An uncertain Kurt Hummel perched in the doorway. 

"Kurtie!" Brittany shouted with delight, dropping her clipboard onto a neighboring chair. "I'm so glad you're here!" The blonde rushed him into an enthusiastic hug. 

"Thanks, Britt," Kurt replied, returning the embrace. "I got your text. I'm just not sure why I'm here."

Retrieving her clipboard, Brittany responded. "That's easy to answer. San needs a lesbro, and you're both unicorns, so..."

Santana resisted the urge to roll her eyes because she would never do that when her girlfriend was involved. "Babe, that's sweet, but lesbros are generally straight guys, not gay men."

"She's right, Britt," Kurt chimed in. "While Satan and I are both fabulous gays, I'm not lesbro material."

Frowning, Brittany scribbled something on her clipboard and subtly crossed out the names Karofsky and Blaine. "Ok, Kurtie. Send the next one in, please."

Kurt smiled, making his exit, and a moment later Puckerman strode into the room. "Pierce. Lezpez," he greeted them.

"Dios mios," Santana murmured.

Brittany smiled brightly. "Hey, Puck! I'm interviewing for San's lesbro!"

Puck shot them a grin. "I know, Britt. And I'm the guy for the job, obviously. I'm a sex shark and Santana is, to use your words, a sex dolphin. Lopez and I are obviously the hottest pieces of ass in Ohio."

Brittany gave a less than subtle cough that forced Puck to amend his statement. "Santana and I are the sexiest around besides you, B. Me and Lopez working together could get even the most virginal girl to give it up." Puck waggled his eyebrows. "I can't wait for San and I to be wingmen for one another." He extended his fist out. 

Santana gave him a reluctant fist bump as Brittany interrupted. "Puck, Santana's my girlfriend and doesn't need to meet other girls."

He faltered a moment while the Latina squirmed. "San, you don't want any other girls, do you?" the dancer asked. 

"Never!" Santana answered honestly. She glanced at Puck guiltily. "I'm a one-woman girl. Sorry, dude."

"Would lesbro status allow me to watch you two together?" Puck asked hopefully. 

Santana smacked him across the head soundly. "Dream on, perv!"

Scowling, Puck regarded her. "It's ok, Lopez. We're still bros. Text me so we can hit up the strip clubs together when your lady loosens the leash. Or if you want a gaming session. Call Of Duty awaits badass Pucktana action. I'll send the next candidate in." 

Puck left the choir room and Sam trailed in soon after. 

"Trouty Mouth," Santana sneered at his appearance. 

"Um, hey, San," the blonde boy greeted with a weak smile. 

"You broke my homegirl's heart. Mercedes is devastated over your break-up. I actually like you, Trouty, and we tend to get along. Don't disappoint me or I'll ends you," Santana stated seriously. 

The blonde boy visibly faltered. "Uh, I'm sorry?"

Santana allowed herself to smile. "Nah, it's okay, Fish Lips. I'll let you live. I just like ragging on you."

Brittany again consulted her trusty clipboard. "Let's review the criteria for a lesbro." She shifted and read aloud from the first item on her list. "Good and/or best friends with the lesbian."

"Check and check," Sam quickly answered, his large lips splitting in a smile. "When we fake-dated slash bearded, Santana, I could tell Britt was your one and only and I respected that. Especially after Rachel's party when I tried to kiss you and you called me by Brittany's name and then punched me in the junk."

"Ah, yes, good times," Santana recalled fondly, a smile gracing her pouty mouth. "Lisa Rinna, I just couldn't hide my gay. Your gigantic-ass feminine lips made me think of a girl so bearding with you was easy enough."

Sam rocked onto the balls of his feet. "No problem, S, I get it. I know it's been rough for you since Finn did what he did. But I'm here, ya know? You can always talk to me. And if you want me to beat Hudson, I'm happy to," he said earnestly. 

Santana cursed lowly in Spanish and discreetly wiped at her eyes. "Whatever, Evans. Put the next person through." She chose to ignore the heart-warming feeling spreading within her.

Sam's eyes danced with mirth. "Sure thing, Tana." He gave her a quick fist-bump before ushering the waiting person into the choir room. 

"Fabray?" the Latina demanded. "Damn, I always knew you were a pressed lemon. Welcome to the world of lady-loving."

Quinn scowled. "I don't know how many times I have to remind you, S, I'm not gay. I'm just here as a favor to B." 

"Remind yourself of that after you hook up at least once with another girl. Like after a failed wedding. Schue's maybe."

Quinn rolled her eyes violently. "Whatever, San, will never happen."

"You seem to forget that my future wife is working on a time machine, so soon I can totally use it to spy on future you's actions and laugh at your sorry white ass," the brunette threatened. 

Quinn smiled broadly. "Future wife? Awww, Santana and Brittany sitting in a tree..."

The Latina cut her sentence off. "Finish that and I'll ends you, bitch."

Brittany leaned in close, pink lips nearly grazing the shell of her ear. "Be nice to Q, honey."

Santana instantly deflated. "Sorry, Fabray."

The other blonde laughed hard. "Oh, Lopez, you're so whipped!"

The Latina narrowed her eyes. "Whatever, Q, don't make me slap you."

"We do have the best slap-fights," Quinn recalled fondly. "On that note, I'll leave and send in the next one." She turned and exited the room, Cheerios skirt flipping up lightly behind her.

At the sight of the shorter blonde's spanks being revealed, Santana sighed lightly and leaned into her girlfriend. "God bless those skirts, indeed." Brittany nodded enthusiastically as Mike hesitantly crossed the threshold into the choir room. "Mikey!" the blonde exclaimed brightly. 

"Asian," Santana acknowledged with a head nod. 

"Hispanic," the dark-haired boy volleyed back surprisingly. He rarely spoke much, so both girls were shocked by his quick comeback.

The brunette sat up quickly. "Sassy, I like. And Chang, you never hit on my Britts like other guys, even though you have plenty of opportunity at dance class. Not once have you tried to grope her."

Mike smiled honestly. "She's my dancing buddy. I don't see her like that, and I love Tina."

Santana nodded approvingly. "You seem to be a rare good guy, Fried Rice, and you don't talk a whole lot. I appreciate that as you're less likely to get on my nerves." She snapped her fingers. "Britt, baby, he's in the final running for my lesbro."

Brittany leaned forward and whispered loudly, "That's a good thing, Mikey." She initiated a high-five that caused the boy to return it with a grin before bounding gracefully out of the room. 

"Wheels better not be on this potential list, because I couldn't take it and would ends him, babe. Seriously, I would roll him into traffic," Santana warned.

"Sanny, that's not nice, but I get it. No Artie as your lesbro." 

The darker girl frowned, eyebrows cutely bunching together. "And not that wannabe leprechaun fucker, either. He's just a Finnocence Junior with a garbled accent."

"Got it," the dancer agreed, flipping pages on her clipboard. "I didn't ask that new girl Joe either because her hair makes me think of giant spiders and she's kinda creepy."

Santana gave her girlfriend a chaste peck on the lips, not bothering to correct her mistakes. "Yeah, babe, Joe is lame."

Brittany frowned down at her notes on her clipboard. "It seems to be between Sam and Mike."

"A tough decision, I'm sure," the Latina seemed disinterested, but was just bull-shitting. 

The blonde pouted. "Tana, I have to scramble my brains and think about this. That's not good for me and hurts the baby chickens."

"Ok, baby," the Latina conceded with another smooch as she watched her girlfriend exit. Casting her gaze around the room, she caught the eyes of the last silent person in the room. 

"Hey, Brad. You ever been a lesbro before?"


End file.
